


Shitty Barista Abuses His Customers

by kurokonekokilled



Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Barista Grimmjow, Blow Jobs, Both sexual and not, College student Ichigo, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fucking at work, Grimmjow has a potty mouth, Grimmjow is mean, Grimmjow jacks off a lot, Hair Pulling, Jealousy, Lots of it, M/M, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Name Calling, Nervous Ichigo vs Slut Ichigo, No Condom, Raw Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Slut Ichigo wins btw, Texting, They're both sluts, abrasive Grimmjow, age gap, and Ichigo is hot for it, coffee shop AU, fucking in the bathroom, he's shy and a lil scared but also wants that dick, please have safe sex kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 15:03:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19443871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurokonekokilled/pseuds/kurokonekokilled
Summary: Coffee shop AU. Grimmjow really fucking hates being a barista, so he starts insulting his customers in order to get fired. Unfortunately, college kids think it's hilarious and keep showing up.Grimmjow finally finds a single customer he doesn't really hate - and by that I mean that he wants to rail Ichigo through the fucking floor.(Heavily inspired by a BNHA fic by Tokiji, link in the notes. Purely indulgent and very smutty.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Nerd and the Shitty Barista](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18869386) by [Tokiji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tokiji/pseuds/Tokiji). 



Grimmjow fucking  _ hated _ being a barista. 

He hated the customers, he hated the too-rich scent of coffee constantly clinging to his skin, hated his boss, always reprimanding him in that calm, low tone like Grimmjow gave half a shit.

But he also had to work. Not for the money, he'd inherited a hefty sum from some grandfather he’d never met, and his own startup was doing pretty damn well if you asked him. No, it was because his dumbass boss knew his dumbass father, and his father demanded he ‘get a real job.’ 

So, here he was.

Didn't mean he had to like it.

Definitely didn't mean he had to actively try to stay employed.

Unfortunately, that whole plan of his backfired.

You see, while he couldn't legally poison or spit in his customer’s coffee - and Aizen had docked his pay for doing the latter once - it was still completely legal for him to, well, be an asshole. He didn't work at some fancy chain, it was just some little shop Aizen had started on his own, and although Grimmjow had his doubts about said man’s connections to certain unsavory characters - in short, he was pretty sure the shop was a front for some Mafia related bullshit - he kept his mouth shut about it.

Aizen let him berate customers, even if he couldn't piss in their drinks, so he could keep his nose out of other people’s business.

Anyway, back to the point. His original plan had been to get himself fired for cursing at and verbally abusing the customers. If enough complaints came in, he'd get sacked and it'd be no skin off his. 

Unfortunately, Espada Coffee was located right smack dab in the middle of fucking College Lane, and all the annoying millennial college brats thought being insulted was fucking hilarious. So instead of complaints pouring in, they started bringing all their little friends along with them, insisting that they ‘had to experience it.’

And really, it was probably more the girls’ fault than anyone else, all of them going all squealy and weak kneed when they heard his growly voice, even if he was insulting them with it. They caught one look at him and decided that if he was hot, he could say anything he damn well pleased. Fucking annoying.

It wasn't all bad, he guessed. 

He made pretty good money now that Aizen had realized he was the one bringing customers in in droves, and he got to shit talk them all he wanted. The downside was, well, that they continued to fucking come in, which meant he continued to fucking have to deal with them.

His trademark vicious grin was in place the second he heard the door chime, electric eyes sweeping the group, recognizing most of them as regulars. But then there was the boy off to the side of the loud mouthed redhead, with a smile on his face that made Grimmjow want to shield his eyes, and a body that made him never want to look away.

Fuck, the kid was all long, long legs and broad shoulders bared by his cutout tank top, and when he twisted to the side, Grimmjow caught a flash of silver at one of his nipples, and he did his best not to actually pull his dick out and offer it to the pretty ginger.

The group made their way to the counter, and he tore his eyes off the kid, scowling at the rest of them.

“Fuck you want?” he grunted, rolling his eyes at them and keying in their orders before they even answered him. 

Like he said, regulars. As in, there every single day at around ten am, ordering the same thing every time.

“Large black, vanilla latte with whipped and chocolate sprinkles, medium raspberry tea, and what’s the brat want?” he listed boredly, watching the three nod in agreement.

The ginger stood in shock for a moment as Grimmjow pinned him with a lecherous grin, blue brow raised expectantly.

“Huh?” he asked. “Oh, me?”

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

“You're the only one I ain't got on here, brat,” he confirmed amusedly. “Fucking order.”

And wasn't the way those cheeks flared pink just too fucking cute?

“Uh, um, could I just have a, uh,” pretty brown eyes flicked up to the menu, clearly scrambling for something simple. 

“Medium hot chocolate, got it,” Grimmjow decided for him, keying it in and taking the kid’s card from his hand. “Name?” 

Like he'd actually use it, but some people didn't tell their friends about his habit before coming in, so it was always funny to play around. And maybe he just wanted to know the little brat’s name so he could imagine groaning it in his ear when he jerked off to that tight ass tonight.

“Uh, Ichigo.”

Ichigo. Nice. 

He ran his tongue over his teeth appreciatively, giving his card back and turning his scowl back to the rest. 

“Go fucking sit down,” he told them, turning his back to start on their drinks. 

Sadly, he couldn't hear the man talking over the low violin drifting through the speakers and the burbling of the coffee maker, but he could see the pretty blush on Ichigo's cheeks as his friends crowded around him. Guess his behavior was significantly different toward the kid if even they picked up on it. 

Whatever. He didn't have to be nice to people he didn't want to fuck.

“Large black coffee for Overcompensating With Muscles!” he called out, leaving it on the counter as the hulking guy with the eyepatch - Ken something or other, didn't matter - lumbered over to get it.

“Medium vanilla latte with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles for Baboon With Tattoos!”

The loudmouthed redhead who always ate all the whipped cream and only drank half the actual latte. 

“Medium raspberry iced tea for Midget Ice Princess!”

The tiny black haired girl, stomping up and grumbling about not being a midget, as always. Kept coming back, though, so it wasn't his problem.

Ichigo seemed to be staring at him, almost in fear of what his nickname was going to be, and he hadn't even been all that mean today.

“Medium hot chocolate for Strawberry!”

He chuckled as he saw the tension melt from Ichigo’s shoulders, soon replaced with a scowl at the surely hated and overused nickname. Ichigo tripped twice on his way up, his scowl being overcome by his blush as he clearly struggled to keep eye contact with Grimmjow’s searing gaze.

He shuddered when Grimmjow handed him the drink and purposely let his fingers linger on Ichigo’s. 

“Um, thank you,” Ichigo said stiffly, eyes flitting around nervously.

“Berry,” Grimmjow crooned, almost outright laughing at the way Ichigo's eyes snapped immediately to his.

“Ye-yes?” 

“You're coming back tomorrow,” Grimmjow said.

It wasn't a question, wasn't a suggestion. He said it like an order, and if Ichigo hadn't been planning on doing so already, he definitely would have been after that.

“Uh, yes, I am,” he agreed. 

Grimmjow grinned at him, raking his gaze over that body once again.

“I work until close every day but Thursday,” he informed Ichigo, grinning as he saw the boy try to decide why he was telling him this. “See you tomorrow morning.”

And with that, he was turning around to clean up and reorganize, getting ready for the lunch time rush. 

“Yes,” Ichigo said, almost breathlessly. “See you tomorrow morning.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's just jacking off that's it

Grimmjow had that fucking brat on his mind all throughout work that day, clouding his thoughts and making him clumsy.

The way he laughed, all rich and throaty and honest, and the little glimpses he kept getting of those fucking nipple piercings through the cutouts in the sides of his shirt, not to mention the clearly ripped body under it, all of it was mouthwatering. He wanted to fucking bite the kid, to hear him moan and whimper and leave marks all over that creamy, pale skin, make sure everyone knew who was wrecking the boy.

The second he got home, he was changing into sweatpants, tossing his uniform into the hamper and making his way out to his living room. He needed to make dinner, but the way his dick was throbbing was telling him that he was going to have to postpone doing so.

So he flipped on the tv, just for background noise because he hated the quiet, tossing his legs up on the couch, and let his eyes fall closed. His mind immediately conjured up images of the pretty ginger, all smiles and blushes, as his hands pulled his pants down his thighs.

He wasted absolutely no time, taking his cock in hand and rolling his palm around the head, spreading the precum dripping from him. Bottom lip between his teeth, he slowly stroked over his aching dick, wishing to everything that it was Ichigo’s pretty mouth rubbing over him rather than his hand.

But he could make do with his imagination for now, could easily conjure up images of the brat down on his knees at Grimmjow’s feet, earnest amber eyes staring up at him as perfect lips stretched wide around his cock. Little moans bubbling out of that mouth and vibrating around him, Ichigo’s eyes fluttering shut as he twined a hand in all that hair, plowed his hips forward and made the brat choke on him.

Fuck, he was going to _ruin_ that pretty little mouth - hell, he was going to ruin the whole boy, gonna make him a pretty little cocksleeve, begging for Grimmjow to pound into him, stretch him wide open, make him fucking scream. He half wanted to just bend the kid over the counter and fuck him while he took orders. Would definitely make his work day a hell of a lot more bearable.

And fuck, but those legs, all long and lean and cased in black skinny jeans that looked painted on. He wanted to wrap those thighs around his skull, around his waist, wanted to feel them tremble and shake as he made Ichigo cum so hard he'd black out.

Grimmjow was fucking up into his hand at this point, growling moans crawling up his throat as he imagined Ichigo’s weight over his hips, strong thighs encasing him as he hammered up into tight, wet heat, Ichigo moaning and writhing above him.

The thought of Ichigo begging, of those pretty eyes wet and needy as he pleaded to cum, was what did Grimmjow in, his back arching as his hips slammed up into his fist, cum spraying up over his chest as he took shaky breaths.

God, he needed to get that boy under him. Or in his lap, or on his knees, or any fucking way Ichigo would let Grimmjow have him.

He looked down at his chest as he caught his breath, grunting in annoyance when he realized he'd have to take a shower before he ate now. Well, he could rub another one out in there, too, he guessed. Not like he was short on fantasies about the pretty little brat.


	3. Chapter 3

Ichigo, predictably, came in the next morning. He was earlier than his friends usually were, and had claimed a little corner table and set up his laptop, a cute little frown creasing his brows.

Grimmjow figured he planned to wait until the rush was over to come up and order, which was fine by him since it'd give him more time to flirt with the kid.

“To-go for Creep With the Candy Shop!”

“Two green teas for Emo Blond and Slutty Tattoos!”

“Mocha frappe with pink sugar, unicorns, and you still owe me twenty bucks for Depressing Green Giant!”

Ichigo laughed at that one, watching a freakishly tall man flip Grimmjow off and slap a twenty down in front of him before grumbling something about seeing him later as he left.

The long line slowly wound down, and by the time nine o’clock hit, there was no longer anyone waiting. Grimmjow expected Ichigo to come up and order then, but the brat looked like he'd been entirely sucked into whatever he was working on.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and made him a hot chocolate, stalking over to his table and slamming it down hard enough to make Ichigo jump. He laughed and pulled a chair out, slouching down and kicking his long legs out in front of him.

“Huh?” Ichigo asked. “I - but, I didn't order anything.”

Grimmjow rolled his eyes again, sticking his tongue out at the boy.

“It's on the house, loser, you look like you're working on something so I was being _nice,”_ he said, sneering the word like it was an insult.

And then his sneer dropped, because Ichigo was smiling at him through those long lashes, and it made his stomach twist and his mind go blank for a moment.

“Thanks, um,” Ichigo's gaze dropped to his chest, eyes flitting across his pecs and shoulders. “I don't know your name.”

“Most people who come here don't,” he said easily, grinning at Ichigo.

“Ah.” Ichigo flushed, turning to his drink and sipping at it. “Ok. Um, sorry.”

Grimmjow wanted to laugh at him, wanted to keep teasing him and making him blush and stutter.

“Grimmjow,” he purred.

Ichigo looked up, startled, eyes latching onto his mouth for just a second to long. And then he was repeating it, voice all soft and breathy, and fuck if that didn't go straight to his cock.

“Grimmjow.”

Grimmjow was a hair’s breadth away from leaning forward and seeing if he could make the ginger whisper it like that in his ear, but the door chimed, and he snarled at the group of people that sauntered in.

“Tch,” he scoffed, turning back to Ichigo and shooting him what was very nearly an apologetic smile. “Much as I like hearing you moan my name, I gotta get back to work. Make sure you come back tomorrow.”

“Oh, um, I can't, not tomorrow,” Ichigo babbled, peering apologetically up at Grimmjow, eyes all wide and innocent, just begging the man to wreck him. “I have a meeting that’s going to last all day, but I can come in on Friday.”

Grimmjow hummed at him, eyes trailing over his body. Well, looked like he wouldn't be getting his Ichigo fix for the next few days, so he'd have to keep himself company with his fantasies. Or, he could…

He snatched a napkin from the table, stealing the pen laying on top of Ichigo’s notebook, and scrawled his number quickly, blindly flipping off the people at the counter who'd started ringing the bell that he kept trying to throw out.

“Hit me up,” he said, pushing the napkin towards Ichigo. “And come see me Friday.”

He grinned at the brilliant flush that colored Ichigo’s cheeks, the way he stammered at Grimmjow’s back as he made his way to the counter. His grin didn't even diminish when he got to the register, for once providing almost acceptable customer service.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Creep With the Candy Shop is obvs Kisuke  
> Emo Blond is Kira  
> Slutty Tattoos is Hisagi  
> And ofc Depressing Green Giant (clearly my fav nickname for him since I keep fucking using it) is Nnoi


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo texts Grimmjow.  
> Grimmjow teases Ichigo over text.  
> Ichigo teases Grimmjow right back.

The first text came that night, later than Grimmjow expected, but early enough that he was still awake and wasting time on his phone.

_Hi! It's Ichigo, from the coffee shop. You gave me your number this morning._

Grimmjow snorted at his phone, a helpless grin forming on his face. God, the kid was too fucking cute.

_I do remember doing that. Hi Ichigo._

And then immediately after, he sent another.

_Did you finish what you were working on this morning?_

He chuckled as he saw the typing bubble pop up almost immediately, leaning back more comfortably on his pillows and waiting for his answer.

_I did! It was just a final draft of the presentation I'm giving at that meeting tomorrow. I'm an intern at Seireitei Corp and they're having all of us give reports on how we think we could make the company better and boost sales and stuff if they decide to officially hire us._

Well damn. Seireitei Corp was notoriously hard to get so much as an interview at, much less an internship or an actual job. Little brat must be a smart one.

_Shit, Berry, making me look bad over here. How fuckin old are you?_

He had to be in his mid twenties if he had a portfolio good enough to catch their attention, right?

_Just turned 21, you? And please, I heard about the business that you started at like 16 that's selling internationally now, don't try me._

Apparently not. And he was younger than Grimmjow thought he was even before.

_I'm 27. Nice to know I have a stalker._

Grimmjow grinned as he watched Ichigo type, waiting for what the brat would say next. He didn't know why he found him so entertaining, but hey, he was entertained, so who cared?

_Oh, wow, you look younger! And shut up, I'm not a stalker, I'm in a business program and your name comes up sometimes when we talk about entrepreneurs and local business. The most I did was some light googling to make sure you were the same guy. Dummy._

Grimmjow actually laughed at that, imagining the brat pouting at him and calling him a dummy in that innocent little voice. He was too cute for his own damn good.

_Oi, that how you talk to your elders, brat?_

He remembered the delicious little flush that would come to Ichigo’s cheeks every time he called him that, imagining Ichigo blushing for him right now.

_Maybe I shouldn't be talking to you if you're so old, huh? After all, I'm just a sweet kid, I don't want to be corrupted by a dirty old man._

Grimmjow bit his lip, feeling his cock twitch at the idea of corrupting the brat.

_You think I'd corrupt something so innocent and sweet?_

He most definitely would, and the fact that his hand was in his pants as he imagined doing so only cemented that idea.

_Not innocent, Grimm. But yeah, you absolutely would. You look like you were built to make other people sin._

Well fuck. He was half tempted to call the brat, let Ichigo hear him describe all the ways he could defile and violate him, let Ichigo hear him _cum._ And then there was the fucking nickname. And the ‘not innocent.’ Too much to respond to, especially when his hand was on his cock.

_That so?_

Ichigo replied almost immediately.

_Mhm. It is._

The little fucker was flirting right back at him, and hell if he wasn't going to wreck the brat when he next saw him. He didn't care if he had to take him over a table in front of everyone in the damn shop, Ichigo was going to be his.

Another text shot through seconds later.

_I should go to bed, I've got an early morning. You probably should too. After all, I won't be there to save you from your customers tomorrow._

He didn't like being left hanging, but he could appreciate a good game of cat and mouse, so Grimmjow figured he could let Ichigo scamper away just this once.

_Don't tell me what to do, brat._

He could feel himself getting close, feel his cock throbbing in his fist.

_Nah, I tend to take orders better than I give them._

Oh, fuck.

_Sweet dreams, Grimm._

Teasing fucking brat was gonna get himself ruined if he kept this up. Grimmjow fucked up into his hand twice more before he was spilling all over his fingers, rereading those goddamn texts.

So the brat took orders better than he gave them, huh?

Grimmjow might just have to test that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beginning of the action, Kaien being an antagonistic little shit because he can

The next two days dragged on like an eternity, Grimmjow trying and failing to keep himself busy, to keep his mind off Ichigo.

To keep himself from checking his phone every thirty seconds.

He'd barely managed to talk to Ichigo on Wednesday, the boy being too busy at work and passing out when he got home. Thursday Grimmjow didn't work, so he was stuck at home with nothing to do while Ichigo was in class.

He wasn't quite brave enough to ask the brat to hang out once his classes ended, but he figured he had plenty of time for that in the future. They texted back and forth, harmless banter and casual flirting, nothing too heavy.

He even behaved and didn't jerk off while he was texting Ichigo. Well, at least not until it got past ten at night. That wasn't his fault.

Either way, come Friday morning, he found himself - for probably the first time ever - actually excited to go into work.

He'd woken up early and taken an extra long shower and allowed the heat to relax his body, then spent too long in front of the mirror trying to decide how to ask Ichigo out. He didn't end up coming up with a solution for that particular problem.

But as he flipped the lights on and set the music to play, shooting the baker in back a nod, he found himself with a small smile playing over his lips.

Opening time came with the usual rush of sleepy eyed twenty year olds trying desperately to stay awake long enough to order their coffees. He worked through it as usual, perhaps being a little nicer today with the nicknames than he generally was.

Well, apparently, all it took to get Grimmjow to be nice was finding someone who made his dick hard. Although to be honest, Ichigo did a lot more than just make him hard. In the four measly days he'd known the boy, they'd found out that they shared the same taste in literature - both classic and modern - and that they both enjoyed skiing in the winter, and so many other things.

Really, they had more in common than Grimmjow thought he'd ever had in common with anyone. Hell, even he and Nnoitra only shared, like, three hobbies, and they'd practically lived with each other since they were six.

And speak of the devil, or, well, think of him, and he shall appear, right?

Just as Grimmjow was wiping down the counter post morning rush, the bell was ringing cheerfully and the human embodiment of sunshine was making his way to the counter. Grimmjow felt a smile spread over his face, almost wiped it off before he saw the way Ichigo’s eyes went all dreamy at it.

“Mornin’ Berry boy,” he greeted lowly, leaning forward against the counter. “How'd you sleep?”

Ichigo grinned at him, rolling his eyes at the man’s antics.

“Like a rock.” Ichigo tilted his head, eyes trailing over Grimmjow lazily. “You? Any dreams?”

Because he'd taken to telling Grimmjow to have sweet dreams before they went to sleep, and Grimmjow had taken to making fun of him for it.

“Only the sweetest,” Grimmjow chirped back at him. “You staying for a while today?”

Ichigo hummed in agreement, shifting his backpack.

“Yeah, I've got a school project that I want to get a start on, figured I'd steal one of your tables for a few hours.”

Grimmjow chuckled lowly at him.

“You're the only one I don't mind doing that, Berry,” he assured. “Go sit, I’ll bring you your cocoa.”

Ichigo nodded shyly, smiling at Grimmjow through his lashes, and made his way over to the little corner table by the window.

Grimmjow watched him set up, pulling out his laptop and a notebook and flipping through the pages in a clunky textbook. He grinned stupidly at the kid, turning and grabbing a cup from the stack and starting on his hot chocolate.

This all felt so fucking nice. All domestic and soft, the warmth that spread in his belly as he chatted aimlessly with Ichigo making him want to keep doing it forever.

Less than a minute of daydreaming later, Grimmjow was making his way over to Ichigo’s table, setting his cocoa down along with a little chocolate pastry that Ichigo had been eyeing and pulling out a chair so he could lounge next to the kid.

Ichigo looked up at him with a gentle smile, jotting something down in his notebook quickly before picking up his cocoa and sipping at it, humming in pleasure at the flavor.

“You really do make the best hot chocolate, you know,” he grinned warmly, taking another sip.

“So you don't just come in here to see my pretty face?” Grimmjow asked, placing a hand over his heart. “I'm wounded, Berry.”

“Oh, you wish,” Ichigo laughed, slapping him on the thigh companionably. “I come to make fun of you. And for the hot chocolate.”

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out childishly at Ichigo with a grin.

Ichigo’s own grin slipped, his eyes suddenly falling from Grimmjow’s and latching onto his hands where he was twining his fingers together atop the table.

“Um, Grimm, I was wondering,” he started hesitantly.

Grimmjow waited for a few seconds, grinning, before prompting him.

“Uh-huh?”

“Um, well, I just wanted to know, uh, if I could, you know, ask you something?” he babbled.

“Just did,” Grimmjow replied with a lazy grin.

Ichigo shot him a glare for about half a second before returning to nervously watching his fingers.

“Well, I, um, I understand if you’re not, uh, single, or - or interested, but,” he paused, laughed uncertainly, amber eyes flicking up to take in Grimmjow’s smiling face. “But, I wanted to know if you'd maybe like to, uh, to go on a -”

“Ichi!” a loud voice called from the door, neither of them having even noticed the bell clanging when it opened.

Grimmjow turned to scowl viciously at the newcomer, eyes raking over him angrily. And then Ichigo was half hopping out of his seat, rushing over to the tall, black haired asshole, and crushing him into an excited hug.

Directly after he'd almost asked Grimmjow out.

 _Ignoring_ Grimmjow.

“Kaien!” the kid was gasping, stepping back, but keeping his hands on the guy’s wrists. “I didn't know you were back!”

“Decided to surprise you,” the asshole - _Kaien_ \- answered him, too smooth and easy.

Grimmjow growled low in his throat, pushing up from the chair with a loud screech of metal and stalking back behind the counter, ignoring Ichigo’s attempts to talk to his back.

He finally turned back to the ginger when he got behind the counter, eyes cold and distant, but Ichigo didn't seem to notice.

“Kaien, this is my friend, Grimmjow,” he introduced. “Grimm, this is -”

“Don't fucking care,” he cut Ichigo off, sneering at Kaien.

“Grimm?” Ichigo questioned hesitantly, clearly confused.

“You gonna fucking order something?” Grimmjow snapped at the guy. “If not, then get the fuck out.”

“Grimm!” Ichigo repeated, raising his eyebrows. “What the hell? Be nice.”

Grimmjow snorted rudely at him, rolling his eyes and finally looking at him.

“In case you didn't realize this, I'm not fucking nice,” he sneered. He turned back to Kaien, resisting the urge to spit on him. “Fucking order or leave.”

Kaien just smirked at him, wrapping an arm around Ichigo’s shoulders as he perused the menu, grinning as Grimmjow bristled.

“You definitely weren't exaggerating about this place,” he said to Ichigo. “It's super funny, though, we’ll have to come in more often.”

“Like hell,” Grimmjow snarled.

“You do nicknames, right?” Kaien asked with a grin. “What's yours, Ichi?”

Ichigo just looked back and forth between the two in confusion for a moment.

“He, uh, he just calls me Berry, or Strawberry,” he stammered out.

“Hm, not very imaginative.”

“Get fucked,” Grimmjow grunted.

Kaien just smiled pleasantly at him, pointedly not removing his arm.

“I'll take a medium iced coffee with two sugars, please,” he said.

“$1.87 plus a fifty dollar inconvenience fee,” Grimmjow snarled at him, ignoring Ichigo’s exclamation entirely this time.

Kaien handed him a five dollar bill, giving him a happy smile.

“You can keep the change.”

Grimmjow seethed for a long moment, slamming the money into the register and accidentally shredding the first cup he grabbed for the asshole’s coffee. He poured it, put exactly two ice cubes in it and enough creamer that it was nearly white. He didn't add any sugar.

Slapping the cup down on the counter, he glared at Kaien as he half yelled.

“Iced coffee with twelve pumps of creamer for Motherfucking Asshole Who Doesn't Know What Personal Space Is,” he barked out.

The few other customers in the shop looked at Grimmjow, startled, as while his nicknames were usually taunting and mean, they didn't carry the undertone of violence that pervaded his tone right now. Kaien just grinned smugly as he took the coffee, sipping at it obnoxiously.

“Perfect,” he sighed, turning and making his way back to Ichigo.

Grimmjow sat and silently seethed for the next half hour, obsessively cleaning the counters and display cabinet, even offering to help the baker just to keep himself from throttling Kaien like he wanted to.

He tried to drown out Ichigo’s hesitant laughter, bristling when it turned into something more carefree and easygoing.

He saw Ichigo get up from the table, turning his back to the kid as he noticed him making his way to the counter. It was childish, but so was he.

“Grimm?” he asked hesitantly.

Grimmjow turned reluctantly, refusing to make eye contact, staring down at the display screen of the register.

“What do you want?” he asked coldly.

“Grimm, will you please let me -”

“Another hot chocolate? Got it.”

He held his hand out, ignoring the way Ichigo sighed, clearly frustrated, before placing his card in that big hand. Grimmjow swiped it quickly, tossing it back down onto the counter and turning quickly to start on the drink, ignoring the way his heart was clutching painfully in his chest.

“Grimm, just -”

“Go fucking sit down,” he ordered, not turning to look at Ichigo. “I'll call when your shit’s ready.”

He thought he heard Ichigo break off a sob, but he didn't turn to check, focusing on the drink and drawing the process out as long as he could, trying to keep his nerve up.

"Ichi, you've got chocolate on your mouth," Kaien said, deliberately loud enough for Grimmjow to hear it.

"Oh, thanks, hand me a napkin?" 

"No, I'll get it," Kaien told him, reaching forward and gripping his chin, ignoring his protests as he reached out to wipe the chocolate off.

Swallowing hard, Grimmjow turned, slamming the cup down onto the counter and ignoring when it sloshed over the side, electric eyes practically burning straight through Ichigo.

“Hot chocolate for Strawberry That’s Gonna Be Cream Covered When My Shift Is Over,” he growled.

Ichigo’s face flamed, his mouth dropping half open as his brows raced towards his hairline, his jaw still in Kaien's hand.

“Oi, fuckin’ Berry, come get your shit,” he demanded, pushing the cup forward.

Ichigo half stumbled out of his seat, tripping over his own feet as he made his way to a glaring, seething Grimmjow.

“Fucker asked what your nickname was,” he snarled. “So there, you got one.”

“Grimm, are you -” he cut himself off, glancing down at his shoes before forcing his eyes back up. “Are you saying what - what I think you're saying?”

Grimmjow damn near growled at him, leaning forward predatorily, forcing Ichigo to keep his gaze.

“What do you think I'm saying?” he challenged lowly. “Tell me. Tell me, and I swear to fucking everything that I'll pound it into you so hard you'll never forget.”

Ichigo's breath hitched, his pupils dilating as his eyes flitted down to Grimmjow’s mouth.

“You - you… want me?”

Grimmjow snarled at him, rounding the counter quickly and pushing Ichigo back against it, caging him in. Ignoring the gasps and mutters of the customers.

“I told you to tell me, not fucking ask.”

Ichigo's hands flexed on the counter, his jaw setting as he stared into Grimmjow’s eyes, clearly faking his confidence.

“You want me,” he said clearly, his voice only the tiniest bit shaky.

And the second those words were out of his mouth, Grimmjow’s lips were crashing down on his, mouth hungry and demanding and still the slightest bit angry, and a whole lot possessive. All Ichigo could do was hold on for the ride.

He wrapped his arms around Grimmjow’s strong, broad shoulders, pulling him close as the man clutched Ichigo against his body, pinning his hips to the counter.

And then the world was spinning, Grimmjow lifting Ichigo, groaning into his mouth as those long legs wrapped around his waist, hands diving into blue hair.

Grimmjow pulled back just long enough to snap at the baker peeking her head around the corner, telling her to watch the register while he was gone.

Somehow, in all his fantasizing, Grimmjow had overlooked the perfect possibility of taking Ichigo and fucking him senseless in the employee bathroom.

It was definitely time to remedy that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut will be next chapter.  
> I have slept approximately 3 hours and 14 minutes since the 31st, and it is now the 2nd. I am going to take 3 thousand Benadryl and try to sleep. I'll write and post the next chapter either in a Benadryl haze or after I wake up from a week long nap. I will also edit this for typos/mistakes at the same time.


	6. Chapter 6

Grimmjow shoved his way into the employee bathroom, Ichigo hanging off his hips, thanking every deity he could think of that they had a private restroom with a lock so he could properly fucking ruin this brat without worrying about giving anyone a show.

“Fuck, Berry, Ichi, baby,” he rambled under his breath, pressing searing kisses to Ichigo's throat, reveling in the little whines he was drawing from the kid.

“Grimm,” Ichigo gasped, arching against the man when he felt a big hand shift to squeeze over his ass. “Grimm, shit, you sure it's a good idea to do this -  _ fuck _ \- here?”

Grimmjow sat him down on the sink counter, crowding in between his hips, not allowing for an inch of space between them.

“Ichigo, if I don't wreck you right this fucking second, I'm gonna explode,” he answered, half desperate and breathy, hands already reaching up under Ichigo’s shirt.

“Shit,” Ichigo whispered, reaching forward to fumble with Grimmjow’s jeans, fingers clumsy as he worked on the buttons. “Shit, Grimm. You mean that? You're gonna wreck my pretty little ass right here in your work bathroom?”

Grimmjow’s brain short circuited, his fingers freezing a quarter of an inch from those goddamn piercings he was so intent on getting his hands on, cock throbbing in his jeans at the absolute  _ filth  _ spewing from the brat’s mouth. Guess he really wasn't all that innocent.

“Fuck, you have no idea how bad I've wanted this,” Ichigo murmured, pressing his hand into Grimmjow’s jeans the second he got them undone. 

Grimmjow’s hips buckled forward into those teasing fingers, head falling forward onto Ichigo’s shoulder.

“Yeah?” he asked breathlessly, eyes rolling back in his head. “Shit, Ichigo, how fucking pent up are you?”

Ichigo laughed, not pausing in rubbing his warm palm over Grimmjow’s cock for a second, movement only stuttering when Grimmjow managed to yank his shirt over his head, fingers immediately going to the barbells in his nipples.

“Grimm,” he groaned, arching into the touch. “Been a while.”

“Good,” Grimmjow growled, bending to press his tongue to the nipple his fingers weren't teasing. “You're fucking mine.”

Ichigo gasped, free hand scrabbling over Grimmjow’s back as he moaned at the wet heat on his chest.

“Yeah?” he whimpered, desperate for more - more of Grimmjow’s hands, more of his words, more everything. “You actually - oh, oh shit, more - actually like me?”

Grimmjow scoffed, pulling his teeth back from Ichigo’s flesh.

“Course I do, idiot.” He yanked his shirt over his head, reluctantly taking Ichigo’s hand from his cock so he could press it over his abs, watching him practically salivate. “Think I'd waste my time chasing after you if I didn't? Think I’d pull you in here when I'm supposed to be working if I didn't wanna make you mine?”

Ichigo didn't answer save for a pretty blush spreading across his cheeks, fingers trailing over Grimmjow’s chest, down to his abs again and over his hips. He glanced up almost shyly, nails scraping lightly over Grimmjow’s skin.

“Grimm, can we - can I kiss you again? I wanna -”

Grimmjow cut him off with his tongue in that pretty mouth, pressing forward against his chest, holding the brat close as he devoured him. He didn't lean back until they were both gasping for air, hands desperate and demanding again, yanking at each other.

“Fuck, Grimm, I like you too, wanna…”

His words broke off on a moan as Grimmjow’s hand pressed down over his cock, yanking his jeans open to feel the wet stain on the front of his boxers.

“Like me enough to let me bend you over the sink?” Grimmjow growled in his ear.

Ichigo arched into him, whine bordering on a sob, nodding vehemently.

_ “Please,  _ Grimm, need it.”

Grimmjow yanked him forward off the counter, laughing as he stumbled a bit, not giving him time to get his footing before he was turning Ichigo and pressing his shoulders down against the counter. He wasted no time in yanking Ichigo’s jeans down over that perfect fucking ass, fingers kneading harshly as his hips ground forward.

“Last chance to beg for mercy,” he warned.

Ichigo looked back at him, grinning impishly as he ground his hips into Grimmjow's.

“I'd rather beg for your dick,” he answered smoothly.

Grimmjow’s mouth watered, cock throbbing in his pants, and he couldn't resist bringing a stinging slap down on Ichigo’s ass.

“Shit, who knew you were such a little cockslut behind all that sweetness,” he murmured, half in awe.

Ichigo moaned, long and low, lashes fluttering as he licked his lips.

“Fuck, yes, Grimm, just for you,” he panted out. “Only a slut for you.” He whimpered when strong hands bracketed his hips, pulling him back so Grimmjow could slot the bulge in his pants in the cleft of Ichigo’s ass. “It's so big, Grimm, please, fucking need it, want you to split me open -”

“Shit, shut up for a second,” Grimmjow grunted, cock twitching viciously in his pants, hard enough Ichigo could feel it.

He knew he was in for it when he saw Ichigo’s lips curve into a grin, felt him grind back slow and teasing and demanding.

“Why, Grimmy?” he asked innocently. “You gonna cum in your pants just from listening to me?” He giggled, almost enough to do Grimmjow in with that alone. “C’mon, fuck me. I've wanted you since the day I walked in here, wanted you to push me around and call me names, stretch me out on your cock and make me cry for you. Hurry, Grimm, need you.”

And just like that, his patience absolutely evaporated. Grimmjow yanked his jeans and boxers down his hips, moaning as his cock fell forward across Ichigo’s pretty little ass, hips bucking involuntarily.

“I'm gonna fucking ruin you,” he threatened, voice low and dark. “Make you watch in the mirror while I tear you fucking apart.”

“Yes, c’mon, fucking do it, Grimm, fuck -”

His words were cut off by three of Grimmjow’s fingers forcing their way into his mouth, playing over his tongue.

“Shut up and put that mouth to better use, you fucking slut,” he instructed, grinding his cock over Ichigo’s hole. “Get ‘em nice and wet for me.”

Ichigo moaned, lashes fluttering as his cheeks hollowed around Grimmjow’s fingers, tongue working over his fingers expertly. Grimmjow let him choke on them for another minute, just watching him and grinding against him, but he was never known for his patience.

Not a second after he decided they were wet enough, he tore them from Ichigo’s mouth, wasting no time before he sunk his middle finger all the way into that tight hole. And fuck, but Ichigo was  _ tight.  _ And hotter than Grimmjow thought he'd ever felt before. 

Grimmjow tried not to rush, tried to ease Ichigo into it, but the brat was fucking back onto his fingers, pretty eyes filled with tears threatening to spill over every time he looked up into the mirror. He worked Ichigo into an incoherent mess on his fingers, not stopping until he was trembling and begging in half formed, gasped out words.

“You ready for my cock, baby?”

Ichigo smiled blearily at the term of endearment, pressing back onto his fingers demandingly.

“Please, Grimm, fill me up,” he asked breathlessly.

And, hell, who was he to deny such a pretty little thing?

“Yeah,” he said, just as breathless as he spat crudely into his palm, slicking his cock up quickly. “Hey, Ichigo.”

He waited until Ichigo’s hazy brown eyes met his in the mirror, pupils blown with lust.

“Hm?”

“I'm saying yes to that date you didn't ask me on.”

And in the next second, his hips were snapping forward and he was half buried in the most perfect hole he'd ever felt. His fingers clenched down on Ichigo’s hips, and he half hoped they'd leave bruises there, a clear mark of ownership. He rolled his hips forward more carefully, giving Ichigo time to adjust as he sank his cock all the way into that welcoming heat.

They both moaned when he bottomed out, Ichigo’s hand coming up to bury itself in his messy hair as Grimmjow lowered his forehead to rest on Ichigo’s shoulder. A shudder ran through him at the pure, visceral pleasure slamming into him from all sides.

His eyes met Ichigo’s in the mirror and held there, demanding his attention as he pulled his hips back, slamming forward hard enough that Ichigo’s other palm skidded forward on the counter. He didn't give Ichigo another second before his hips were pumping into him, cock sliding deep and pressing up into all the right places. Ichigo melted against him, half boneless as he let Grimmjow hold him up, the hand on his chest shifting so he could tease the barbell in his nipple.

He hammered into Ichigo’s prostate, biting down harshly on the side of his neck, high up enough that nothing short of a turtleneck would hide it. His own deep groans mingled with Ichigo’s breathless cries, echoing off the bathroom walls as their bodies worked together.

“Fuck,  _ Grimm,  _ so good,” Ichigo babbled, hips working back to meet every thrust.

“Ichigo, Ichigo, shit, not gonna last,” Grimmjow warned, his free hand moving to wrap around Ichigo's cock and stroke in time with his thrusts.

“Neither am I,” Ichigo gasped, body trembling in Grimmjow’s arms. “Just keep - fuck, right there, Grimm, yes, more.”

Grimmjow snarled in his ear, fucking into him near viciously, desperately wanting to hear more of Ichigo’s noises, more of his breathy, fucked out voice pleading for him.

“Ichigo, fuck, so good for me, fucking look at you,” he grunted, the hand not on his cock grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look into the mirror. “Gonna fuck you so good, gonna make you cum so hard you'll forget all about that fucking prick, gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

Ichigo’s brows furrowed even as his eyes rolled back in pleasure, his hands bracing himself against the countertop.

“Wha- what are you talking about?” he managed half heartedly. “You mean Ka-”

“Don't you dare fucking say his name while my cock is inside of you,” Grimmjow warned, hips snapping up harder, more erratically, battering Ichigo’s prostate. “You’re  _ mine.” _

Ichigo keened, shaking against him, mouth open on breathless pants.

“G-Grimm, I think you misunder-  _ fuck!”  _ he screeched, fingers scrabbling at the cheap plastic of the counter. “Right there, right there, please, so close.”

He repeated the words like a mantra, hips bucking against Grimmjow, bringing both of them to the edge, breathless and desperate, clinging to each other.

“Ichigo, shit, gonna cum, you're so fucking tight,” he panted out.

“Do it, fill me up, c’mon Grimm.”

His voice was high and tight, so needy and obviously close to the edge. Grimmjow twisted his hand over the head of Ichigo’s cock, and the brat shattered around him.

He threw his head back, knocking against Grimmjow’s shoulder, hands scrambling for something to hold onto as his entire body convulsed, spasming around Grimmjow's cock. It was more than enough to send Grimmjow over the edge, thighs locking up as he slammed forward, as deep as he could go, biting down on his throat against as he spilled inside Ichigo.

It took them a long moment to catch their breath enough to clear their heads, even longer to fully disentangle themselves from each other. 

Grimmjow watched far too smugly as his cum trickled from Ichigo’s hole and down his lean thigh, an even deeper mark than he'd left on the brat’s throat.

“Holy shit,” Ichigo breathed, still half hunched over the sinks.

“That good?” Grimmjow gloated, reaching over and grabbing a few paper towels, reluctantly wiping away the evidence of his claiming before helping Ichigo pull his pants back up.

“Oh my god, shut up,” Ichigo laughed, turning on shaky legs as he buttoned his jeans, watching as Grimmjow did the same. 

“I'm usually better in bed, but we weren't in a bed and I've been too damn needy for you to make it last,” Grimmjow grinned. “I'll make it up to you later.”

“I don't know if I'll survive you being better than that,” Ichigo said breathlessly, rolling his eyes as Grimmjow caged him against the counter again, pressing kisses to the marks on his throat.

“Still better than that fuckhead out there,” he said smugly, nipping at Ichigo’s skin.

To his surprise, Ichigo laughed at him, pushing him back just slightly and pulling his shirt back over his head.

“Grimm,” he said fondly. “Dummy.” He wrapped his arm around Grimmjow’s still bare waist, pulling him back in and pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw. “Kaien is my  _ cousin.” _

Grimmjow stared at him stupidly for a few long seconds, brows creasing as Ichigo continued to run his hands over his chest and back.

“He's what?” he asked dumbly.

“He's my cousin,” Ichigo repeated. “And he was being an antagonistic ass because he knows I have a crush on you and I didn't think you liked me like that.”

Grimmjow stared down at Ichigo, smiling up at him all soft and warm and sweet, and felt the tiniest bit of guilt settle in his stomach.

“Oh.”

Ichigo giggled at him, resting his head against Grimmjow's chest.

“Yeah, ‘oh,’ you dummy,” he chuckled. “So I think your jealous ass owes him an apology, and I owe him ten bucks for being wrong about you not liking me.”

“Shut up,” Grimmjow grumbled, grabbing his shirt off the counter and yanking it over his head. “I'm not apologizing, and I wasn't jealous. And you're not giving him money.”

“Oh?” Ichigo asked, amusement glittering in brown eyes. “So now you're jealous  _ and  _ you're a liar?” He laughed, carefree and happy as Grimmjow sputtered at him. “You're apologizing.”

“I'm not apologizing,” he said stubbornly.

“You are if you want to fuck my throat tonight,” Ichigo told him smoothly, leaning up to whisper hotly in his ear. “I don't have a gag reflex.”

Well. 

“I'm apologizing,” Grimmjow immediately agreed.

Ichigo laughed at him, pulling him down for a quick, sweet kiss. Grimmjow blushed when he pulled back, hands running over Ichigo’s sides as he refused to make eye contact.

“And I - I'm sorry for being a jealous dick,” he mumbled, face flaring bright red. “I shouldn't have blown up at you, and I'll, you know, do my best to talk to you about stuff in the future.”

“I guess you're forgiven,” Ichigo said impishly, pressing up to kiss Grimmjow’s nose before he could get mad at the teasing. “And in the future, huh?”

Grimmjow glared down at him, but there was a softness around his eyes, a smile twitching on his lips.

“Unless you've suddenly decided you don't want to go out with me anymore after I fucked you brainless,” he said nonchalantly, but Ichigo could feel the slight tension in the arms around him.

“Of course I still want to date you, dummy,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Good,” Grimmjow said stiffly, slowly relaxing. “I'm a fucking catch, so you'd be stupid not to.”

Ichigo laughed at him, slapping his arm lightly.

“You're lucky you're good in bed, old man,” he teased.

“Please,” Grimmjow scoffed. “You adore me, or you wouldn't keep coming back and talking to me.”

Ichigo’s eyes softened at that, a hand coming up to play over Grimmjow’s collarbone as he smiled brilliantly up at the man.

“Yeah,” he sighed dreamily. “I do like you, Grimm. A lot.”

Grimmjow’s face went red, and Ichigo could feel his heart kick in his chest. 

“Good. Cool. You should.”

“Grimmy,” Ichigo whined, pouting cutely - and fuck, it was  _ just  _ like Grimmjow imagined it. “Say it back.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, trying to pull away, but Ichigo hopped back onto the counter, wrapping long legs around him and holding him firmly in place. 

“Say it,” Ichigo demanded.

Grimmjow glared down at him again, but the brat was too fucking cute, and he  _ did  _ like him, probably more than he should. He sighed, conceding defeat as he kissed Ichigo's forehead softly.

“I like you too, Ichigo, even if you are a little shit.”

“And you think I'm the cutest in the whole world and are gonna get me another hot chocolate when we go back out,” Ichigo added cheekily, kissing over his chest obnoxiously.

“Oh, fuck you, brat,” he laughed, lifting Ichigo off the counter and settling him on his feet.

“Think you'll still be able to fuck me after you cum in my mouth?” Ichigo asked innocently, and fuck if that didn't make Grimmjow’s cock twitch, trying to get hard again already.

“Baby, you keep talking like that and I'm gonna bend you over the fucking counter up front for the rest of the day before I take you home,” Grimmjow threatened, pressing his hips against Ichigo’s.

And wasn’t the way his breath hitched at the idea interesting? 

Grimmjow grinned down at him lecherously, taking his hand and leading him back out to the front. He ignored the other gawking customers to grin smugly at an amused Kaien, pulling Ichigo in for another bruising kiss.

He didn't apologize to the man before he left. 

Ichigo still let him fuck that pretty little mouth later that night, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom there we go


End file.
